


Prompt: Enchanted Forest

by Countlecterviii



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cannibalism, Gore, HannibalHallow, Hunting, M/M, Time Passing, Wendigo, deer gutting, enchanted forest, fairytale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-07 20:02:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12239703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Countlecterviii/pseuds/Countlecterviii
Summary: Welcome to Week 1 of HannibalHallow! This week, once a day, I'll be posting a snippet of this little story between human!will and wendigo!hannibal.Check out #HannibalHallow on AO3, Tumblr and Twitter for more Halloweeny goodness and idontfindyouthatinteresting.co.uk to participate!





	1. Chapter 1

Will’s boots pressed into the damp earth and rotting leaves. He picked through the brush, as nimble as a deer. He held a loaded rifle to his chest, almost as big as himself and nearly too heavy for frozen fingers, his adolescent body shivering under too few layers of clothes.

He didn’t feel awake, but he didn’t feel asleep. The ground shifting, the blinking stars pulsating and merging. He was running a fever, bright and hot, like a parasitic claim upon his very thoughts, making them move much too fast for him to understand them and much too slow for them to stop him. He couldn’t remember what brought him to the forest, what made him pick up his father’s gun, there must be danger. He fell, he didn't trip, the rifle scattering across the leaves. The last thing he remembers seeing was the blue mist curling in the front of his face.

\--

Hannibal stretched up, flexing and curling back. The tone of his hands melting with the nights sky as he reached to the climbing full moon. His home was a large and ancient tree comprised of multiple merged bows, in the middle of the twists and knots was a natural cradle, which Hannibal regularly filled with fresh moss and dried leaves, and in return for its shelter and warmth Hannibal tended to the tree, scaring rutting stag away with his own mighty antlers and using his long adept claws to delicately remove diseased bark.

Tonight would be eventful, the longest night of the year and the evening where a magnificent bloom would take place. He was powerful, the king and guardian of the expansive and varied forests, but he longed for someone to share its wonders with. To look up into the nights sky with and see the same potential in it's endless depths as he did. He was alone in his kind but didn't have to be the last, as he was human once before.

At first he hunted, not for his usual fair tonight but simply something to keep him fast and strong. Today was some simple rabbits, their meats cooked on a spit and their hearts and kidneys packaged and stored for harsher times. He kept their pelts and ground their bones, sprinkling the softest white powder in the struggling winter underbrush around his tree.

Hannibal ran through the forest, looking for the best viewing spot. He bounded across the lip of a ravine considering a mist filled valley for a moment before turning, something pulling him away. Cloven feet hit the ground, counterpoint to long grasping claws. He dashed through a clearing and back from the path before stopping suddenly; his unconscious mind halting his large body, he inhaled deeply and turned, following this new and different scent.

It smelt hot, sweet, somewhat sickly so but the natural undercurrent was pleasant, youthful. He shifted, moving like the shadows of the trees in the breeze as he got closer to the source. There was a human gun, disposed on the floor by his feet, he slowly placed a foot on the metal end of the rifle and crushed it flat before moving forward towards a lone and decumbent figure, splayed out in the leaves.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 of #HannibalHallow, I'm continuing on with my 7 part Fairytale themed story!

The boy’s eyes were blank and searching, conscious but not present. They sensed the movement of the wendigo high above his head, but weren’t startled. “You are lost” Hannibal whispered, “in more ways than one.” He dragged a claw along a delicate, budding cheek, rubbed from cold.

At the touch Will’s eyes focused, two images becoming one. He waited for the fear, but it never came; this was a dream, he’d fallen asleep in his bed and his body was still there. 

He made one deliberate blink, tested the control in his limbs by twitching ligaments and joints before slowly moving upwards. The creature before him was oynx, its skin almost negative space. It was tall, 7 foot before you even got to the great antlers crowning it's head. It pulled back a step or two, giving Will room to crouch; it was calm but ready, it’s face severe, inquisitive and very human. “You can speak, yes?” Will’s head tilted slightly, and the creatures head followed.

“Yes.” It bowed his antlered head. “They call me Hannibal, do you have somewhere to be tonight?” it offered a clawed hand to help Will to stand the rest of the way.

“I suppose not.” Will said softly, his gaze cast down to the mutilated gun before he took the offered help; he was entirely at this creature’s mercy anyway.

“Then you have wandered into the forest on a wonderful night. Please follow.” Hannibal smiled, like plates of slate shifting over and above one another. It turned on hooved heel and set about a slow pace through the forest. “I was looking for the perfect place to watch this before I stumbled on yourself, it must be fate.” He rose back to the ridge and peered into the valley, the mist settling like a river, he looked up to the full moon, near its apex. “It’ll be soon.”

Will’s gaze followed the creature’s; “what are we waiting for?”

“You do not know what time of year it is?” The creature smiled and returned to looking in the valley.

Suddenly, hundreds of soft and tiny lights rose from the forest bed. Their cerulean shade both eerie and calming. The initial ascent was fast, before they drifted in the wind, mingling with licks of mist and fallen leaves. It was a dream. It must be. Will watched with his breath held until his lungs burned and he sighed. “It’s beautiful.”

Hannibal smiled, forgoing the view in order to watch the spectacle from the reflection in Will’s eyes. There was an open appreciation on the boy’s face, delight and wonder; lines around his eyes and in his cheeks creased with a freshness, his face must not have this appearance often. “Some say the fungus releasing its spores this way is due to a sacrifice, the fungus here holds the person’s spirit and once a year, a new piece ascends to the heavens.” Hannibal smiled and looked up, arms outstretched and palms extended to the sky. 

“Their spilt blood caused the mutation in them to reproduce in this way.”

“A little bit of science, a little bit of myth.” Will nodded, craning his neck to watch the lights drift in the breeze.

“I find all the best stories are a bit of both.” Hannibal smiled and closed his eyes, the breeze playing with the now noticeable dark ashen hair, trailing from his scalp down his spine.

“Which are you made from?”

“Oh, definitely a bit of both.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 of #HannibalHallow, I'm continuing on with my 7 part Fairytale themed story!

Will awoke. He was in the usual mess of his bed, but the blankets weren’t dampened or twisted around his legs from restlessness. He lifted himself from the mattress with hands pressed flat against it at his sides; his eyes searched the room, peered out the windows, before he flopped back down on the bed. It was all in his head, he was sure, but it wasn’t his usual nightmare. He didn’t sweat out the bed as usual, he wasn’t tired, or his muscles wrought out from night terrors. What the dream meant he has no idea, what had caused this change in him he had no idea but he liked it. He felt recognized, understood, settled with a peace at the base of his skull that he wasn’t used too. 

He stood and went to shower, feeling wide awake and fresh even before stepping under the spray. The water was cool to begin with, as it always was in their old shower. It reminded him of the creatures algid skin, but in a way that wasn’t unpleasant. 

He pressed shampoo through his mid length chocolate brown hair, rinsed and stepped out quickly to get ready for school.

\--

Will’s day was of the usual monotony, he was clever however he didn’t want to stand out, kept to himself, turned in his work only just on time, but got good grades. He returned that day to find his father staring at the rifle cabinet, it was unlocked, it’s heavy wooden door open. Will’s father was tall and broad, through years of hard labour at work and at home, they had the same stormy grey eyes but his father’s hair was dirty blonde. “Will?” Bill Graham turned to look at his son crossing the threshold, “I can’t imagine you have, but just in case, I’m missing my hunting rifle, have you seen it?”

Will dropped his bag down, something he didn’t usually do, his father’s gaze dropped with the bag, “Will?” Bill prompted again.

He recovered quickly, walked over the cabinet to look inside. “Was it stolen?”

“No idea, unless they snuck in while I was working in the outhouse? I’ll need to report it missing.” He sighed and picked up his keys from a well-loved table. “I won’t be long, a couple of hours?”

Will nodded quickly, “I’ll have food ready for you.” He said softly, watching him go. The door clicked shut and Will waited a beat before he rushed to the cabinet and stared at the space in the rack. He could feel the weight of the rifle in his hands, the click of the safety, it’s cool metal, and the creature’s cool hands. He blinked heavily and shook his head, grabbing his fallen bag and pulling his books out at the dining table.

He spent the evening concentrating on his work, forcing his eyes down onto the table and in his book. He prepared his father a stew, stirring the pot with one hand and reading a history textbook with the other. He didn’t eat, helping his father ensure all the doors and windows to their small house were secure before turning in for the evening.

Will fiddled with a loose thread on the corner of his blanket, pressed and prone on the bed. He had believed he’d feel stressed, that his desire to ignore the facts was due to worry, unease. But the truth of it was that this exhilarated him, nightmares plagued him, but this couldn’t have been further from a nightmare.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 4 of #HannibalHallow, I'm continuing on with my 7 part Fairytale themed story!

 

_15 Years Later_

 

After a flight and four hours in the car, Will arrived at the home in which his father spent most of his life; there was a cloth covered dish on the porch, and an ice box. Bill Graham had always been a quiet man, but he’d made a few steadfast friends in his time here.

The ceremony was small, accomplished but full of a careful love, the type Will would always remember his father providing. He pulled open his tie, stretched and rotated his recovering shoulder, not at all fresh from the hospital but none the less aching from the tension that had been set across it for the last 3 days.

His time in Homicide had been short; he’d made his father proud and gained some scars. Compared with the deaths he’d seen in recent months, his father’s felt like negative space. The walls of his home weren’t flush with blood or screams, but just silence, a life ending in such a way that even its previous owner was not aware of it. He didn’t know whether he found this comforting, but attempted to steal away any comfort that it might provide.

It left Will’s brain reeling, about what it would be like to spend a night in this house again, about everything he’d tried to get away from and in doing so, had robbed himself of his final years with his father. Part of him hadn’t wanted to spend the night in the house alone, concerned that being just with his thoughts wouldn’t do him good.

He picked up the dish, and the ice box by the handle and nudged his way inside. The house was the same, vastly practical with a few warmer touches. He uncovered the dish and set it in the oven before opening the ice box. Inside, a wrapped and fresh fish and some beers. He set himself up for the evening, locking all the doors and windows in the discouraging knowledge that it wouldn’t keep his imagination out before curling up on the sofa by a low fire. As a teenager, he’d found himself no longer able to look at his father’s rifle cabinet if he could help it, associating it so strongly with the idea that there was a danger beyond these walls that no one truly understood. For Will, his father was lucky to have had a peaceful death, and not at the hands something more sinister.

The beers disappeared too quickly, and Will looked for whiskey. The night slipped away and became grey with an October morning. He missed the warmth of a dogs flank against his feet as he woke up on the couch, startled by a bottle hitting the rug. His mind was sore and slow. He dragged himself up, undressing to a threadbare undershirt and boxers as he went to the kitchen in the search for coffee.

Will looked out of the small kitchen window which exposed the side of their property, and the entrance to the thickest part of the forest. The edge of the tree line was dotted with small mushrooms; they were pale, with a hint of soft blue. He closed his eyes and imagined the soft blue luminescence, drifting up into an endless sky.

Will spent the day attempting to sort through his father’s belongings, routinely distracted by unfinished projects and broken motors and his own imagination. As the sun descended he finished the day on some of the larger items before coming to the rifle cabinet, his father had never replaced the missing rifle, Bill had not felt the need. Will lifted one of the slightly older rifles, he’d held guns since that night, but only smaller weapons and on the job. His palm grazed the well cared for metal, before he made the decision.

He grabbed a coat and swept out of the house. He was almost running, trying to beat his own rational thoughts, he stumbled through, falling off the path and into open forest as the last of the light plunged below the horizon.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 5 of #HannibalHallow, I'm continuing on with my 7 part Fairytale themed story!

Will landed in a clearing; he spun, taking in the pattern the sky made behind the trees. He dragged air into his lungs and spat it back out in great gulps, hands slamming on his knees and the gun falling to the ground again. He concentrated on the ground, on his two feet and the small leafy space between them. “Hannibal” he whispered a name he’d not heard for 15 years, breathless he stood to his full height, his gaze shifting from the floor to the branches. In front of him was nothing more than a silhouette, a tall, slender but strong outline which tilted it’s head in a familiar way.

“You called Will?” Hannibal said softly. He padded across the leaf bed, his hooves hardly disturbing the earth. He was unchanged except for the hair across his head and down his spine having lengthened, the tips of a make shift fringe grazed his eye line and at the back, a portion was folded into a large braid, fastened with stripped bark and moss fibres. 

Will’s bottom lip threatened to tremble, his hands tensed; wanting his eyes to sear a hole in the creature before they softened, he sighed. Relief. “I forgot to ask last time,” he breathed, “are your real?”

Hannibal nodded and paused, “but of course, that is something a fictional creature would say.”

Will laughed, it was accidentally hollow with missed opportunity, part of a youth wasted in his own fear that he could be losing his mind.

“There is no light show from Mother Nature tonight however; would you like to walk with me?” Hannibal begun to turn, offering Will his arm who couldn’t refuse, the crook of Hannibal’s arm was higher, but still in a comfortable position. Will no longer felt at this creatures mercy, but as a guest in his home.

“I’m sorry about your father Will, he seemed like a man who deserved more.” Hannibal gazed up at the trees, as if addressing Bill’s spirit itself before returning to Will.

“His death was peaceful at least. Have you been watching the house?”

“The house is in my forest, I protect what I need too here, so I protected your father and yourself while you lived here. I have charged myself with protecting everything here that requires it. No matter the cost.”

“You would kill to protect the sanctuary here.” Will nodded, “there are lots of stories about these woods, spanning back centuries, should I suspect that these are all down to you and your predecessors?”

“Simply me.” Hannibal smiled. “I am older than some of the trees, I’ve watched them grow from shoots to towers while I stay the same.”

“I’ve taken the slow path, gotten older.”

“I aged once, I was human, I remember it with a gentle fondness.” He laughed softly. “When I became this way, I stopped aging, I changed into this form.”

“You were human?” Will’s eyebrows knotted. “You became this? How?”

“Not now, perhaps one day you will know.” Hannibal’s other hand moved up his own arm, and to Will’s as it gripped above the creatures elbow, their fingers settled together and they continued on their walk in an easy quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sort of imagining Hannibal as being similar to the fawn in Pan's Labyrinth?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 6 of #HannibalHallow, I'm continuing on with my 7 part Fairytale themed story!

Will spent his days sleeping and sorting the house and his nights walking through the forest with Hannibal. To some extent it still felt like dreaming, an eerie calm and easy friendship settled between them. “I’d like to cook for you.” Hannibal stopped their walk to lean down, he pressed a large palm to the earth and fallen leaves, when he stood back up to his full height and they altered their course through the trees slightly. “We’re currently tracking a deer, she’s unwell though, not completely steady on her feet.”

“Do you think she’s injured? Is there blood?” Will watched the ground as they moved, Hannibal was much more confident and careful through the bushes.

“No, there’s a certain smell, a growth perhaps? She won’t last long even if we don’t find her tonight.”

A few paces further and Hannibal held his hand up to stop Will dead still, he dipped his antlered head and bowed powerful legs, ready to spring. Will couldn’t even see the deer, but he waited. Hannibal pounced, legs sprung in an instant, barrelling into the deer and knocking it to the ground; crashing through some spruces, his clawed hands wrapped around the deer’s throat, they gripped, crushed and pulled, breaking the deer’s neck immediately. She tensed and then dropped, lifeless.

Will rushed forward, dropping to his knees beside Hannibal. “You did it.” He reached out tenderly to pat the deer’s neck, just behind her ears. “She’s beautiful.”

Hannibal ran his own hands through the deer’s short and soft fur, his eyes fluttered closed, his lips moving around silent words. Will took the opportunity to look at Hannibal even more closely. He had swirling, raised scars from the back of his hands, all the way up his arms and to his throat; they were a lighter tone than the rest of his dark skin. Hannibal stopped and opened his eyes, the iris the same shade as pupil but flicked with a deep and burning red. Their eyes met and held, captivated by the beauty in the other. “Were you praying?” Will asked.

“Simply being thankful for what we’re about to receive, even if it is just the deer who can hear it. After centuries, you realize that we are given things, and sometimes they’re taken away. But we should enjoy what we have for the time we have it.”

“That’s also beautiful in its own way, understanding your place within the world, but also making your own destiny.” Will’s voice was soft, intimate as he sat back onto his heels. “Do you have a knife?”

“I have no need of one.” He flexed his fingers, and used his claws to sink into the deer’s underbelly. Deft fingers pulled the skin back before pressing into the stomach, and then up into the chest. His arm twisted and then pulled back. When they emerged, the deer’s large heart was caught in a cage of Hannibal’s bloodied claws.

Will expected himself to want to stop, to step away and throw up, but he was intrigued, found himself leaning closer. The sheen of the blood on the quivering flesh and Hannibal’s hand was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. He reached out to Hannibal, finger tips dipping in the thick blood before withdrawing. The blood was still warm.

Will began to build a fire, not far from the deer and with one eye on Hannibal who set about preparing the rest of the deer. The creature wrapped extra meat in large evergreen leaves, secured with twisting branches. He skewered the meats they were to eat and toasted them gently over the fire; he watched the cooking meat closely, getting in close so the light from the fire danced impossible shadows over his skin. Will sat on the other side the fire and watched him through the flames. “I could imagine enjoying this life, you live responsibly, respectfully. It’s so calm. The world is so noisy.”

“You are so receptive to the world, a receiver, not a transmitter. But it overwhelms you.”

They ate the cooked meat with their hands; Hannibal would almost peel strips away and would dip them into his mouth before closing his lips. Will could do nothing but watch. Hannibal smiled, eyes closed with bliss and pleasure.

Will took a bite of the meat, it was cooked perfectly. The freshness of the flesh stored wonderful flavours, and the wonderful texture bloomed across Will’s tongue. They smiled as they ate, gazing over the fire in that same easy quiet. Will finished his food, full and warm; he moved to lay on his side and closed his eyes.

Hannibal watched the man fall asleep in complete peace; he let the fire die down before ceasing it with earth and scattering the ashes. He scooped Will up, picked up a tied package of the rest of the deer and walked back to his tree. The stars shone through the canopy onto them both. The tired but contented man in Hannibal’s arms was like no one he’d ever met before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have to post the last chapter after the #HannibalHallow event. I'm so tired I couldn't get the two chapters done today.


End file.
